


Enough

by StAnni



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feels, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 04:59:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18359099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: “I miss you.”  He says because it is true, even when she is back from a day upstairs – even when she is right in front him – the keening, the ache never stops.“I feel it too.” She answers and the cool pane of glass between the tips of their fingers feels like a wall of steel.





	Enough

Homer pretends to sleep and when she is back in her cage, and the lights are out, he opens his eyes to see her face – quiet in the dark. Her lashes, blond and light, flick up and when her eyes meet his – that sad and dusty blue – his heart constricts. It is always like this. He doesn’t remember a time when it was not like this.

“It’s okay.” She says and her voice is so soft that for a moment he thinks that he only heard it in his head. “Don’t look so worried.” The smile breaks, pale pink and the world becomes a little lighter.  
“I miss you.” He says because it is true, even when she is back from a day upstairs – even when she is right in front him – the keening, the ache never stops.  
“I feel it too.” She answers and the cool pane of glass between the tips of their fingers feels like a wall of steel.

She moves closer to the glass, her torn skirt riding up a bit with the movement and his eyes fall on the sun-forsaken skin of her knee, porcelain – the flawless ivory of her thigh. He is hard for her, has been for hours. It is one of those days when waves of yearning are tinged with something much cruder, carnal – a hunger. But she knows him and her eyes move from his to his mouth, to the prominent bulge he has cupped with his free hand. 

They have done this before, so many times – but each time feels new in a different way.  
Her nod is imperceptible if he didn’t know how to read her the exact way that he does. They try to be quiet – not only cognisant of Hap no doubt watching from upstairs, but also simply trying not to disturb the sleep of the two other prisoners.  
He pushes the material of his boxers down so that she can see him, and his cock, erect a- the tip slick with pre-cum touches the glass. Her eyes are fixed, her gaze so hot that the want under his skin blisters.

“Tell me.” She says in that low, low voice and he has to grip himself at the base, to steady through.  
“We’re in a bar, or a restaurant, wherever you want to go…”  
She smiles, a quiet smile that edges on something dark – something curling beneath her calm veneer – it is intoxicating. He continues, watching her slide her hand between her legs, the dress bunched there, and he can just make out a glimpse of her naked cunt. He is bolder, as she likes him to be, slowly, tightly stroking himself. “We’re in my bedroom, in the dorm…” Her lips part and he can tell that she likes it, this particular version of his fantasy. “We’re both a bit drunk. From the party downstairs. Carefree.” Free. “And you kiss me, hungry – your mouth is warm and you taste like strawberry wine-cooler.” The smile, again. He lifts his leg slightly to massage his balls – watching her start a slow rhythm between her legs. Her breathy sounds and the sound of her fingers, now slick – is an instant high. “I push you down onto the bed, push your skirt up, pull your panties down.” He slows his strokes, focusing on her lips, parted, her tongue warm and crimson, her breath – stifled, low. He has to close his eyes “I unbuckle my belt and unzip, I’m so ready.”   
“I want you.” She says and it is a breathless whisper, making his cock jerk. “It’s not our first time, I’ve had you in this bed before, in the back of my car, bent over my desk. I know how you like it, hard and slow, how tight you are when I push inside, how you moan when I pull you to me, I’m so hard it aches.” 

And it does ache, the need for her – he spits in his hand and she gives a slight gasp, her hand between her legs straining. When he resumes his strokes he does it for her, the slide of his palm against his shaft, thumbing the head. “I’ve had you, straddled across my lap in the bathroom, you’re still wet from me, from before.” 

As he says it he can feel her hair on his cheek, her head down-turned, the skin of her parted thighs against his – the puff of her gasps in his neck as he feels her hips roll, riding him. 

“Turn me over.” She whispers and he opens his eyes to her upturned chin, her pale hand moving between her legs, now slightly parted – so that he can see the wet folds under her fingers. He strains himself for a moment – scrambling for control. “I go on my knees and pull you back, on all fours, I lick a warm stripe from your cunt to your ass.”  
She groans. She loves the word cunt. She whispered it to him years ago. Close to the first time they did this. Hearing her say it made him see stars.

“I want you that way tonight, I want all of you.” 

In the four years that they have done this, they have given themselves over to each other completely. She has sucked him off in the back of a movie theater. She has stripped for him, tied him to a bed, taken him like he has taken her – with fingers, with her mouth, with a strap-on they had bought an hour before. He has held her down, been rough, made her beg for his cock, and he has begged her too. They have climbed into the skin of another and into the darkest corners. He has pulled her over his knees, and she has come from the feel of his belt, his bare hand, his cock on her tongue. She has been a concubine, a prostitute, a wife. He has married her, and celibate until their wedding night, they have made love for hours on the hardwood floor of a cabin. 

“Yes.” She consents and her breasts rise, face flushed.   
“I taste your cunt, trace your ass with my tongue, press inside, until you moan, until you tell me you want it.”   
“I do.” She says and he cannot take his eyes from her face, the tremor of her lips.  
“So tell me.”   
Her voice is low, so low, and the words sends a shudder down to his balls “I want you.”  
His hand around his cock is tight, so tight. “OA, look at me.”  
She does – the blue of her eyes are light lightning. “Tell me.” He says, his voice hoarse.   
“Fuck me, Homer.”

In his dorm room, he runs his hand down her back, between the glistening line of her cheeks, down to the warm slit between her legs, wet, from his tongue, from before. She moans as he trains his fingers up again, testing gently at the rim of her hole – wet and slick. He strokes himself above her, knees behind her parted legs, as he slips a finger inside, then two. She breathes and moves back against him, setting the rhythm. It is tight and so hot and they have done this before – on the mossy bed of a forest, over the back of a couch in the living room of their house, in a hotel room during Mardi Gras. She has turned for him on this very bed, sliding her skirt up and pressing the pale globes of her naked ass against the glass as he rutted against it. And in his dorm room she looks over her shoulder at him, eyes the darkest blue – heady. “Fuck me, Homer.” 

When he presses inside she moans, and on the other side of the glass she moans – stifled, quiet. He watches her face now as his hips rock, quaking in and out of his tight grip, in and out of her – her shoulders strong and pale beneath him, her narrow hips spread and her small entrance taking him, thrust by thrust. Hard, thorough. How she likes it.

He speeds up his motion as her fingers slide deep between her legs, her breath faltering – she is close. “Come when I come.” He manages out, his fist at an erratic pace. “Come when I come.”   
And at that he stutters forward, semen white and wet spilling over his white strained fingers and she gasps, eyes on his cock, and parts her legs wider, allowing him to see her fall apart in front of him – collapsing like a star.

His throat is raw and his voice is like gravel. “I can’t get enough of you.” And it’s the truth, the only truth. He can never get enough. It can never, ever be enough.


End file.
